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I looked for a perfect pattern within my life,
Thinking everything should always make perfect sense.
But then I learned that fate can cut just like a knife,
Taking things away, without any recompense.
"Into each life some rain must fall," Longfellow wrote.
I never thought about it much, until the day
You walked away with my best friend, and left a note
Saying, "Sorry for any pain I've brought your way."
I always thought you had consummate taste and style,
Until you took my heart and ground it, just like grist!
Well, that's all right; I'll sit here and bleed for a while,
Then strike you both off my current Christmas card list!
A perfect pattern may, perhaps, exist for some;
But for me the mould is irreparably broken.
One ex-wife and one ex-best friend later, it's dumb
To seek a perfect pattern, by any token!
Copyright © Robert Haigh 2018 (0.00 / 0 votes)
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